Sugar Jericoma
by Anneklok
Summary: Chris Jericho and his house sitter, Angelina, spend the day together and .....


Author: Miss Annerzz

Disclaimer: I only own Angelina and Mel. Kay owns herself. WWF people belong to themselves or .. the WWF.

##### Author's Notes: IF you read this REVIEW IT~!

Sugar Jericoma
    
    "Chris!" I was banging on the bathroom door.

"What!" I heard him call out over the hum of the shower.

"Are you done yet!"

"Almost!"

"That's what you said ten minutes ago! What are you doing in there!"

"You don't want to know!" he teased.

I'd fix him for that one. I twisted the doorknob opening it in stealth mode and peaking inside. I took a glimpse of Chris standing in the glass shower under the spray of water, his back to me. The steam was rising out of the door and I knew he'd sense the cool air soon. I stepped inside and shut the door behind me as quietly as I had opened it.

The clear glass shower left nothing to be imagined on the cut body of my best friend Chris Irvine. I giggled as I noticed he had no tan lines at all on his body. I couldn't believe Chris had been somewhere in the buff. He was usually so modest about showing off skin. He wore tights in the ring instead of the little wrestling briefs. So I took in the sight of him, realizing that it might be a long while before I would ever see anything like it again. 

"Maybe you'll hurry up with the proper motivation," I teased causing Chris to jump half a mile in the air.

"Ahh," he screamed huddling himself into a corner of the shower, "Angelina, get the hell out of here,"

"Well, will you hurry up and vacate the premises!" I challenged standing my ground.

"Yes, gawd, just leave!" he commanded trying to cover his naked posterior with his hands.

"Ok," I opened the door and stepped out shutting it loudly behind me.

I loved teasing Chris that way. He was too easy to upset sometimes. Of course that worked both ways. Sometimes I could get my way and sometimes I got into trouble with him over the little things. I lived in his house while he was out of town and so I was in charge of keeping it up. I liked the fact I had free room and board in exchange for keeping the place all pretty and nice. Chris made an all right living wrestling and of course he had the joys of being in a band. I think that really did a lot for him, not financially, but damn did he enjoy it. I got the honor of not only being the biggest Y2Jerichoholic, but the biggest Fozzy Osbourne fan, as well. I liked the attention I got from him as well as the perks, kind of like, when I showed off the little demo tapes I recorded in his just finished recording studio down in the basement. Chris I supposed thought they were entertaining if not somewhat talented. I found them an interesting bit of self-depreciation slash embarrassment desensitization. If not my singing then at least my guitar skills were enough to giggle at.

I flopped back on a chair in front of the big screen TV while waiting for Chris to emerge from the shower. I honestly could have used one of the other two showers in the house, but annoying Chris was heaps of fun and interrupting his shower sounded like even more fun than I was used to. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he came out. No matter how much I teased Chris it was all in fun. In fact he teased me just as much. He was just about my best friend after all. Imagine that, my best friend, a WWF stud. Who knew! Anyway I was flipping through the 600's of the satellite channels we had and wondering just how I could be going through over 1,000 channels and still find nothing worth while to watch.

"There's nothing on!" I growled in aggrivation.

"Can't find anything to watch .. go look at Chris' naked ass!" Chris complained coming into view from the hallway.

His bath robe was tied tight around his waist and he was leaving a puddle all across the tiled floor.

"Good job, you're leaving a huge mess,"

"Which you have to clean up, Mizz caretaker!" Chris laughed walking off leaving his water trail across more area of the house.

"Chris! Get a mop and clean it yourself!" I called out.

"I'll make you a deal," I heard him yelling from his bed room, "We'll go outside and have a wrestling match, if I win you clean it up and if you win then I clean it up,"

"Can I forfeit it now!" I yelled back.

"NO! C'mon where's your sense of adventure!"

"Fine, fine. I'll be out back!" 

I got off the couch and switched off the TV. A while later Chris joined me wearing a pair of very tight jeans and a battered t-shirt written in Titanic font "the boat sank get over it". I loved that shirt.

"The following contest is scheduled -" he began.

"For one fall. It is for the House Cleaning Championship," I finished mocking his ring announcer voice.

"Ding ding!" Chris imitated the bell ringing.

I dove at him taking him by surprise to the ground. He rolled over pinning me, but I threw my shoulder up using all the strength my little body had. Chris just laughed it off and put me in the Walls of Jericho. I tapped wildly not enjoying the discomfort of that move he enjoyed one bit. 

"Gawd, Chris! Please!" I screeched as he held me in the position.

"Are you tapping?" he inquired before doing anything drastic like letting me go.

"YES YES! I'll clean the floor!" I conceded in a high pitched yowl.

"And?" he went on with more torturous stipulations.

"And I'll never go check you out in the shower!" I finally agreed still pounding on the short cut grass.

Chris let go of my legs, which thudded to the ground. I gave a huge exhale of painless breath. I was actually ready to tear up I was so happy to be freed. Chris just stood there not knowing whether to laugh or apologize by the look on my face. 

"Could you at least help me inside?" I asked weary from the submission hold.

"Oh, all right," he acted like he was doing me some huge favor.

Chris leaned down to help me up but as he was lifting me by the arm I felt this enormous sizzle in the small of my back.

"AHHH!" I screamed, "OWW!"

"What?" he inquired not pulling me up any farther than he had.

"My back. Ow," I tried to reach to it still hanging in his grasp.

Chris flipped me over his shoulders into a fireman's carry.

"I'll take you in and set you down," he grumbled, "Don't worry about the floor. I'll get it,"

He must have thought it was a ploy by me to get out of mopping up all the water he had left, but I was truly feeling some pain.

"Christopher, I think you finally broke me," I groaned as he gently laid me on the couch.

"I'm sorry. I know you're faking, but I'm still sorry," he smiled one of his tight goofy smiles and wandered off to clean up his mess.

"I'm serious! My back really does hurt!" I called hoping this time that he'd take my pleas to heart.

"It'll wear off. Put on some TV. You'll feel better,"

I reached for the remote and was barely able to stifle my yelp of agony. Chris had really done it this time. I finally regained enough composure to turn on the TV, and from there, pass through 300 channels, with nothing grabbing my attention. Somewhere while doing that Chris had sloppily wiped up his mess.

"Feel better now that the work is done?"

"Seriously Chris I think I hurt something back there," I whined as his face softened finally believing my tale was genuine.

"Can you roll over?" he asked sympathetically kneeling next to the couch.

"I'll see," I squirmed over onto my side barely able to move my back with out pain.

Chris shifted me over the rest of the way and wedged a pillow between my cheek and the leather of the couch.

"Okay, I'll see what I can do," 

Chris went to work trying to rub out the kink he had added to my lower back. I thought he was doing a pretty good job, until he landed his fingers straight onto the epicenter of the annoyance. I writhed in pain instantly upset by the profoundly hard manner in which Chris had decided to work his magic.

"Good job, Magic Fingers!" I whimpered as he jerked back upon my freak out.

"Sorry," he weakly smiled utilizing his Canadian accent.

"Ah, no you're not. Try again, this time pretend I'm not looking to piece my belly button with the end of my spine,"

"I'll take that into advisement,"

Chris again began to work vigorously at the spot this time without as much brutal force. I was lulling myself into unconsciousness as Chris moved back and forth working out the tension and whatever else he had done to my poor back. He really had to learn to be more careful with me. I may have been a tough girl compared to most, but Chris should know better than to actually injure me over a stupid-mopping job.

"Oh yeah! OH YEAH!" I began to moan with delight upon some relief, "That's the spot baby!"

"Glad to see I serve some purpose other than a meal ticket!"

"Oh baby! You can serve my purpose anytime," I teased feeling more amiable now that I was regaining normalcy in my back.

"Don't tempt me, you tempting little treat, you,"

I giggled at his lame complimentary remark.

"Chris, you have no game. If it weren't for the super stardom I would wonder how you get chicks in the first place,"

"Well, sometimes I wonder myself. It's not like I can bring them back here. I'd be in fear of what would happen if I left THAT mess for you to clean up,"

"Gawd, ew, just stick to the fixing of my back and shut up. I don't want to have any more obscene mental pictures,"

"Sorry, sorry. You're so darn sensitive about things," he complained hitting the spot on my back one hard last time before quitting.

"You're done?" I wondered hoping that indeed it would last forever.

"Yeah, I think I worked out all past injuries from there, too. My hands are tired,"

"You can wrestle for gawd knows how long, but after ten minutes of helping me out, your hands get tired? I don't think so,"

Chris shrugged standing up, "So what's for breakfast?"

"There's pop tarts in the pantry," I offered mischievously brushing off his request for me to cook.

I was injured there was no way I would get up and cook for the guy who had thrown my back out.

"Yeah," he answered, "But what are you cooking me?"

He could be so persistent at times.

* * *

I groaned getting up realizing the kink was worked out probably for good knowing Magic Fingers the way I did. 

"What are you in the mood for,"

I crawled off the couch and dragged myself into the kitchen prepared to wait on Chris hand and foot. 

"The works," he smirked taking a seat at the bar style counter. 

"How silly of me. What else would the two ton super hero want,"

"Are you insinuating something about my weight?"

"No, just your ego," I happily taunted going to the refrigerator to gather the supplies I would need.

"You have a pretty huge ego yourself, missy!"

"See, if Angelina had a huge ego, then Angelina would talk in the third person!" I joked putting a carton of eggs, loaf of bread and package of bacon on the counter beside me as I continued to forage through the appliance. 

"And you are sure that you are legally sane and it's okay to walk around without being heavily medicated?" he challenged thoughtfully.

"Chris," I feigned a seductive tone, "How many times do I have to tell you. I'm _legal_,"

He grinned shaking his head at my response to his remark. Finally after a moment long silence from him and the immediate start on his meal from me, Chris looked up.

"Okay, say some girl is physically like 32, but is mentally a 6 year old could your mind technically be charged with indecency toward a minor if you get together with the chick?"

"Okay, no and I have quite a bit of supporting evidence for this one. First of all, if she were 32 with the mind of a 6 year old she wouldn't go for a guy like you. She'd go for a remake of the Ken doll. Second, they would have to not only charge your mind, but your body, unless a new sentence system was created to make you into a vegetable for 7 years or less without the possibility of not being able to revive your brain. Thirdly, it wouldn't even be rape, because even by the slight chance her mind was that of a 6 year old, it cannot be disputed that any males mind is that of a 6 year old. This fact may however lead to the charge of statutory rape, but I'm sure in this instance it could be concluded that it was not non consensual considering that during this hearing the brain dead idiot female would have bragged to the whole jury how good you were or weren't,"

Chris gave me a skeptical but awed look as I finished up my closing statement and came to an end scrambling his eggs.

"That has got to be the most long drawn out insulting barrage of straight off The Practice legalese speak I have ever, EEEEVVVVEEERRRR heard in my life,"

"You really think it sounds like something off The Practice?" I questioned as toast popped out of the toaster right on cue.

"No, but if they got a 32 year old writer with the mind of 6 year old maybe,"

"I thought that was your new model for a girlfriend. Sorry,"

As soon as I had felt finished with the bacon I slid a full plate of eggs, bacon and toast across the bar to him and scurried to the other side of the kitchen. I had yet to bring him his customary Orange Juice, Milk, and bowl of cereal along with a sliced apple, skinned of course. Chris had a thing about detail. I'm not sure what it was, but I was 100% sure it only applied to me. This was his ideal breakfast, which he claimed he looked forward to a great deal while he was traveling. I didn't see how he could take great joy in my cooking this feast every morning, but then again maybe if he ever cooked it for me I would understand. I leisurely came back with the two glasses of drink, bowl of Honey Nut Cheerios and sliced up fruit. Upon his glance of approval I then went to toast up my pop tart and dig into a cup of yogurt. I had only simple tastes, why did I have to play maid to such an extravagant weirdo. 

"So what do you want to do today?" Chris asked with a mouthful of half chewed Cheerios.

"Oh, you mean I get the benefit of your presence this fine day?" I asked incredulously as my pop tarts flipped out of the toaster.

"Of course you do!" he almost balked at my response.

"How about we go rent something from good old Blockbuster," I suggested.

"Hmm, can we go to Disney World instead,"

I didn't feel up for anything else that might wreck my back or neck. I brain stormed some more hoping to get out of a trip to a theme park.

"Let's go shopping!" I eagerly suggested stuffing half the pop tart into my mouth.

"After eating like that are you sure?" he asked stuffing a rolled up piece of toast all the way into his mouth causing his cheeks to puff out massively like a squirrel. 

"And you're asking me," I teased through my full and chewing mouth.

Chris was the only guy I could pull off not having manners around once in a while.

"Seriously, Chris, let's go shopping for guitars or we could go pretend to look at Cars or ooh I know, we could go down to the strip and buy you some hooker threads!"

"How about we buy you the hooker threads. I think that would be much more interesting!"

"Well, I thought you'd say something like that. What else is there to do since shopping, video's and theme parks are out?"

Chris fell silent thinking as he stuffed his face. Suddenly his eyes got glittery with an idea coursing through his brain.

"I've got it!"

"Oh no," I groaned only wondering what Chris had thought of.

"Check this out. It will be the best of both worlds," he slurped up some eggs and juice, "I'll take you shopping and buy you whatever you want," my eyes lit up, "Within reason," he quickly added before I got too many ideas, "Then we'll go rent a non sappy funny movie, to make up for the theme park I'll invite the guys over and we can see what comes of all of us with pent up energy in the pool,"

"Fun fun fun," I cheered searching for a spoon to eat my yogurt with, "So where we going shopping?"

"Where do you want to go?"

"You mean I get to pick the store!" I shouted in surprise.

"Last time I checked the country was a democracy,"

"That doesn't mean we are," I reminded.

Chris had a look like he wanted to say something, but instead dove back into his Cheerios. I watched Chris take down some more spoonfuls of his cereal and pack in some eggs along with it. It was no secret to me, anyway, that aside from Chris being my best friend he symbolized something more. It wouldn't have shocked me if one day I finally broke down and admitted I felt closer to him than anyone on this earth. So sue me if I had "accidentally" over a five-year period developed a minuscule crush on Chris. I knew there was no way in hell he could possibly feel the same way. By now I knew his taste in women, and while I'm not going to say I agreed with it, but they didn't quite fit my category. 

As I spooned the last of my yogurt into my smile formed mouth, I saw Chris push his plate to the side and eye his bowl. The apple had disappeared and the milk was gone. One gulp of orange juice approximately remained. Chris lifted up his bowl and in the grand tradition slurped excessively loudly, the Cheerio flavored milk he had left. I rolled my eyes and glared tossing my yogurt cup into the trash.

"So who's coming over tonight?" I asked taking his plate, bowl and glasses to the sink.

"I'm thinking of calling over the wrasslin boys if you can handle that?"

"Who might I ask? The whole roster?"

"That might be fun!" he had picked up on the idea later than I expected.

"Are they all staying around here?"

"The next house show is in two days so most of them are. I think only the rich bitches went home,"

"So how many should I expect to be cleaning up after?" I grumbled rinsing the soiled dining wear and sliding into place in the dishwasher.

"I'll be helping," Chris mused and I could tell it was all an attempt to soften the blow of his next comment, "So if like 50 people show up,"

"50!" I shouted floored at the thought of all that could go wrong with 50 people mulling about for a whole night, "Wait, hold on let me just take a deep breath. .. Okay, that sounds fine,"

I agreed to this whole 50 people business hoping all would truly be well with a ghastly amount of people showing up.

"Well, this won't take long. Let me start calling people and you can get ready for your shop a thon,"

"Ookay," I hurried from the room leaving Chris to his devices. 

I couldn't wait to go shopping. We always had fun when we went out in public together. First off Chris had to wear these hugely retarded disguises to keep from being recognized. Not that it didn't happen anyway. It just gave us at least an hour of extra time to be out and about. I had learned the skill of being a quick and decisive shopper. I could only hit at least five stores in one shopping center before we had to escape to save ourselves from an all out riot. I brushed my teeth and started the tedious task of applying makeup. I didn't even wear much of it, but still it took some time. A little eye shadow and eyeliner accompanied the customary base and powder. Then I slapped on some Dr. Pepper flavored lip-gloss and I was finished. Some may say I lacked style, but at least I could take pictures and not be linked to a specific era of time. After that I decided I wanted to out do Chris in the tight jeans area so I found my lowest cut tightest hip huggers and somehow plastered them on. My next choice was a pink baby tee with the word Princess scrawled across the front. I was not the typical pink-wearing girl, but since my equivalent of "daddy's bank card" was taking me shopping I thought it was appropriate. 

I took a seat on my bed, a nice big waterbed, and switched on my TV. I wanted to give Chris a little longer to arrange his party for later that night. You couldn't rush the master at his task or so I had heard at least. It had been my experience that Chris needed to be rushed or otherwise he'd spend a week refinishing the same task, perfecting it. I had seen him do that time and time again in the little studio downstairs in the basement. I found my new favorite station on the satellite, the game show network, and was watching one of my favorite game shows. I had no idea what it was called, I promised myself I would never learn the names of the things for fear it might solidify an addiction. The premise was to answer questions about super market products and then go make a run for food items at the end. I usually cheered on the whole running with the cart business. I secretly wished the show could get crossed with American Gladiators at some point and pit contestants against irate meat counter employees. I doubted my suggestion would ever turn into a reality so I limited myself to the daydream aspect of it. Before I realized what had happened a whole half hour had gone by as I was hypnotized into the world of Supermarket Sweeps. I shuddered at knowing the name.

* * *

"Ange! Are you ready? YET!" Chris was yelling from somewhere else in the house.

"Yep. I'm coming!" 

I got off the bed and somehow stuffed my little leopard wallet into my jeans, grabbed my sunglasses and left the room.

I found Chris standing by the front door waiting for me. Today's disguise had his hair pulled up under a black curly wig with a fishing hat on top. He still had on his Titanic shirt and tight jeans, this time finished off with work boots. Thick black sunglasses hid the rest of his face. I couldn't help but laugh. He hadn't shaved off his rather insignificant goatee yet.

"What's funny?" he asked genuinely disturbed by my reaction.

"I've just never seen Kirk Hammet with a blonde goatee," I laughed even louder upon making a sly remark.

"What's up with the Kirk Hammet jokes. The disguise is fine,"

"Sorry, sorry. Yes you'll be just fine. I can't believe I have to be seen in public with you though!"

"Oh shut your face! Princess!" he scoffed, obviously at the thought of me being royalty.

"Yes, I am!" I opened the door and escorted myself out. 

Chris followed behind locking the door behind us. I fumbled in my pockets for my keys. The one thing I had forgotten in my rush to accommodate Mr. Impatience. 

"I left my keys inside," I muttered turning to face Chris who just smiled.

"It's okay, we'll take mine,"

"Just what I need, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride,"

"That's what everyone wants, Mr. Toad's Wild Ride," Chris quoted from one of his and my all time favorite films, Mallrats.

I followed Chris to the one vehicle he disliked enough to park in front of the house, his '88 White Bronco. He could have just sold the thing, but no he HAD to keep it and flaunt his OJ Simpson-ish memorabilia.

"Must we?" I begged for mercy enough to be let into the house to get my keys.

"Princess," Chris gave me a warning tone at my attitude toward his vehicle.

He may have disliked it enough to leave it out of the garage, but apparently he still loved the thing.

"Oh, all right," I conceded to my own personal defeat. 

Chris more than happily unlocked the car door and held it open for me. I stepped inside and he even thought to shut it rather than just walking away. I leaned over and unlocked his door to save him the trouble. Chris not expecting the gesture fumbled with the lock until he noticed me eyeing the popped up lock at the base of the window and my mocking laughter. He jerked open the door and hopped in silencing me with a finger.

"I just wasn't expecting you to actually unlock the door,"  
"As many times as we've watched a Bronx Tale, you'd think I would have learned something!"

Chris started up the engine, "Duly noted. You do realize that you've proved this behavior to be deemed acceptable and it will be expected of you in the future,"

"Fine, fine. It's not like I don't cook clean and slave for you as it is,"

"Don't forget it's willingly,"

"Oh yeah, what girl is going to pass up living in your posh little Florida hacienda and spend time with The Millennium Man himself,"

"Aw, Angie. I didn't know you were a fan,"

"The biggest remember!"

"That's my girl!" 

Chris switched on the radio and turned the volume dial way up. I wasn't sure what band was on the obviously Rock station, but I could guess it was Disturbed.

"I like this song!" I shouted over the music.

"WHAT!"

I rolled my eyes at his hearing disability rearing its ugly head, "I SAID! I LIKE THIS SONG!"

"Yeah," he agreed, "Something about a song called Stupify that really hits the spot!"

"Exactly," I muttered not intending for him to hear me.

The ride to the mall was a quick one. I should have started calling Chris Speedracer after that experience. He was usually such a good careful and at times slow driver.

I touched up my lip-gloss using the rearview mirror. After all the air conditioning blowing in my face to keep the car cool in the Florida Heat, my lips had gone dry. I guess it paid off to keep a tube in every car in addition to the house. Before I could turn to unlock my seat belt and get out of the car I found Chris waiting on my side. I dropped the seat belt to the side and Chris opened my door for me. He was getting a little too comfortable with the gentlemen bit. I was starting to wonder about his general health. 

"Are you all right today?" I asked feeling his forehead for any abnormal temperature.

"What? Can't a guy be nice these days without girls taking offense,"

"Chris, I'm a lady now. Say it with me .. lady!"

"No, you're a woman. A lady is a dignified term for a woman," 

We started walking to the mall entrance.

"Oh, so now you're seeing I'm not dignified?"

"No!" he hurried at that answer, "You are a lady. I just wanted to make sure we were clear on that. Besides, if you're a lady then I'm a gentleman,"

"We'll see about that," I giggled as we came to the glass entrance doors.

Chris for the third time opened the door for me.

"You're almost too good at that by now," I teased as he nodded enjoying the attention.

We walked through the entrance hall of the mall. Already we were getting strange looks most likely due to Chris' hideous disguise.

"Chris," I shook my head at him.

"What?" he wondered in genuine suspense.

"You look, so, so goofy!" I ended up laughing although I didn't intend to.

"So do you Princess," he muttered good naturedly.

"How so?"

"A pink shirt with the word Princess on it, for starters. To top that, YOU are wearing it!"

"What's wrong with me being a Princess?"

"Hate to break it to you, but are sooooooooo not princess material,"  
"What material am I then?"

He thought for a moment before a knowing smile crept upon his lips, "Dork material, that's what!"

"You're so mean Chrissyfer!" I gave him the dreaded baby talk which sucked all the life out of the room for him.

"Don't do that. Especially in public! You know I hate that baby talk crap,"

"Aww, does Cwissy hate dah baby twalk," I rubbed my talent in his face.

"Stop it!" he swatted at me even though physically I was far from abusing him.

"Or what? You're a gentleman and I'm a lady remember!"

"You are no lady. I take it back. You're a mean mean little girl!"

"Hah, am I? Well you are a stuck up bratty little man child!"

"Don't call me manchild!"

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I'll put you in the Walls of Jericho the second we get back to the house!"

I softened my expression at the mention of my new worst fear.

"Thought that would get your attention," he smirked at getting his way.

"The move doesn't do anything for me. It's the back pain afterwards that's the killer,"

"Hey!" he changed the subject pointing to one of our favorite stores, "Hot Topic!"

I followed Chris inside and shadowed his every move. It may have annoyed him. I wasn't sure, but if I had to wander around with him looking like a crack house version of Kirk Hammet then this would be his price to pay. While inside Chris fell in love with yet another pair of vinyl pants. This time he found them in a repulsive purplish color and a funky holographic print that basically just changed colors based on how you shifted the pants under light. I left him to picking out various other flashy bits of clothing and wasted some time at the accessory rack. I picked out twenty different kinds of bracelets and a feather boa and boa wristbands. Chris would really enjoy seeing me in those the next time Fozzy played a show. I also discovered some new pantyhose they had got in stock since the last time I had been there. So after a new couple of sets of shoe laces I finally dumped my findings on top of Chris' load.   
"Are you done?" he asked looking at my stack.

"Oh yeah, I haven't even looked at the clothes," I slapped myself in the forehead for over looking the important matter at hand. 

I led him over to the girl's rack and helped myself to a stick to reach the top racks. With Chris' imput I picked out a silver shiny halter top, a Rainbow Bright shirt, a Boys suck! Shirt, and a devil princess tank to replace the Princess shirt I was wearing.

"Oh yeah, Devil Princess, that's definitely you," Chris grinned ear to ear as I lifted the shirt down from the top rack with the stick.

I laid it down on the tall stack he held and then swished him off with my hand to pay for it all. Our combined total was around $208 dollars. Chris had to be the sweetest man alive for taking me shopping and letting me buy all that stuff with his money. 

"Where shall we go next?" he asked still grinning ear to ear.

"You mean I get to spend more?" I couldn't believe Chris was going to let me buy more stuff that day after we dropped a sizable wad at our Hot Topic.

"Hmm, if you go put on this Devil Princess shirt you do," he reached into the bag and dug out the black tank with the red lettering and cartoon devil girl on the front.

"It's a deal,"

Chris and I walked a few yards to the restroom area of the mall and entered the "family" restroom together. We always made sure to use that so we could keep up our conversation while handling our business. Sometimes I wish more unisex bathrooms existed because that's usually how are deep philosophical conversations got interrupted, bodily function urges. 

I turned my back to Chris and yanked the pink shirt over my head. I snapped the tag off the devil princess tank with my teeth and then pulled it on. I quickly whirled around to face Chris looking into his face for the approval. Chris reached over and straightened it out from clinging to the proverbial "wrong spots" and then stepped back to admire the job. 

"Ready to roll, let's go,"

We vacated the starting to smell premises and continued on in our browse of stores. 

"Do I really look like Kirk Hammet?" Chris asked me out of the blue.

"A little," I gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. 

"Is it a sexy "a little" or a nasty napster hating loser "a little"?"

"Chris, you know no matter what you'll always be sexy,"

"Even if I lost an ear and all my teeth and had a knub for a right arm?"

"Well, you'd be disabled and dysfunctional, but I'd still love you,"

"Really?" he sighed in fake wonderment.

"Hey, look Victoria's Secret!" I was about bouncing up and down at my discovery.

"Oh gawd, no!" he whimpered, "This is sick twisted punishment and torture,"

"What? Chris I thought you liked women in underwear plastered all over the place,"

"Not with other people around. I might get into trouble browsing the uhm, merchandise," 

"It won't take long, just attempt to behave and get that credit card ready. I'm on a roll,"

After some initial struggle I managed to lure Chris inside the store. I think he was happy to have worn his disguise. It gave him that sense that nobody could really see him or something. I didn't mind dragging the Invisible ATM around as long as he kept to his business and paid for everything. After some long over due silences out of him he finally thawed out a bit and got into shopping. At the end of twenty not so long minutes I had picked out 5 new sets of underwear and Chris had picked out a whopping 10 for me. So we left the store with all 15 bra's and all 15 panties. I was so proud of him. 

* * *

"Why did I let you pick my underwear again?" I asked rifling through the bag re counting all the very skimpy choices he had made.

Chris just giggled still in shock from his experience in the lingerie store. He continued his off and on giggle for the next fifteen minutes. That's when we ended up at Spencer's. I seriously debated myself on allowing Chris to accompany me inside after that whole bit at the Victoria's Secret, but against my better judgment I brought him in anyway. After talking me out of a lava lamp Chris attempted to talk me into buy matching blow up dolls for our mutual friends Matt and Jeff Hardy. We knew they would most likely get thrown away on the spot, but a routine teasing was necessary for our Southern friends. I in due time talked him out of that idea and that's when we both decided what the house needed was a few strobe lights and a mirror ball for the entertaining room. So with those three purchases behind us we left Spencer's. I noticed Chris was looking kind of loaded down so I gladly took away my Victoria's bag from him and left him with the other two parcels. 

"How long have we been here?" I asked.

"Looks like an hour. Wow, must have been all the walking to and fro,"

"Let's hit one more store. I wanna cap this trip off at $500 and that's after the movie and groceries,"

"We need groceries?"

"If you plan on having 50 of our closest friends over, yes!"

"Fine, fine. Damn, I feel so domesticated," he grumbled along.

"I'm sorry. I'll try to remember not to traumatize you in this fashion ever again,"

"Yeah, that's what I'm talking about,"

"Gadzooks sound like a good finisher?" I asked stopping in front of the store.

"Oh yeah, check out that wall of swim wear," Chris began to drool eyeing the bikini's in particular.

"Geez, I didn't know you were into drag," I mocked leading him inside and away from the swimsuits.

"There's those glittery shirts you like to wear so much," I pointed to the far corner of the men's area. 

Chris' eye's lit up and he headed in the direction I had sent him, mystified. I sifted through the racks, not really finding anything mind blowing, until I happened upon some leopard vinyl pants. I picked up a pair along with a few black tops and headed to the dressing room. After trying on my choices I was lured to the shoe rack. There I found a perfect set of Fire Vans. I requested my size to a sales clerk who dashed to the back to find them. I was searching away through the clearances when finally the clerk arrived with my shoes. I tried them on and with the luck of the Irish upon me, they fit. So I added those to my arm load of wares and headed back into the dressing room to try on the clearance items. I came out to find Chris with two new shirts ready to be bought. I skimmed over the jewelry and socks without finding much. Chris spotted a whole wall full of funny shirts. I left him to piddle around there and sneaked to the swim suit section. Of course, the soft velveteen leopard print bikini caught my eye. I had to have it. I grabbed my size and without even bothering to try it on stuck it in between some of the clothes I held. When I returned to Chris he had two shirts from the funny rack with him.

"Done?" he questioned hopefully.

"Yup, sure am,"

I handed him my hefty load and he dutifully hauled it all off to the register. I having nothing else better to do followed him there and watched his face momentarily light up as the bikini went across the scanner.

"You bought a new bikini," he noted matter-of-factly as if I hadn't noticed him zing with glee. 

I shrugged not at all phased by his look or words. The price tag on that venture was $220. I almost considered putting some of it back, but when Chris noticed the look on my face he waved my worries off. 

"Don't worry. It's not like we do this weekly,"

I sighed, shrugged and accepted what he said. What was I going to do, fight with him over buying me a bunch of stuff I wanted? I took the bag this time seeing as it contained mostly all of my stuff. Chris was staring at me. I could see through the sunglasses he had just replaced onto his face. 

"What?" I asked referring to his gaze.

"Nothing," he murmured almost less than audibly.

"In shock from wasting all that money?" I asked as we shuffled to the escalator to find our way back out of the mall.

"No, no. It wasn't a waste," he assured me.

"Are you sure?"

He smiled thinking up a comment to settle this, "Nothing's a waste for my Devil Princess, Angelina,"

I couldn't help but laugh at his sincerity. Sometimes I really couldn't tell what Chris meant by things. This was one of those times. Why had he said MY devil princess, Angelina? He could have easily just called me devil princess Angelina or either of the both. Why had he said MY? I guess I was working overtime in the neurotic department. I had a tendency to read too much into things. I supposed it was one of those times yet again for me to hope for things that weren't really there.

Chris and I ended up escaping to the parking lot without a single fan asking for an autograph. I guess his Kirk Hammet look was really working out for him. He only had to sacrifice the last of his dignity to not be found out, but that was a small price to pay with Chris' dignity quotient. Again after setting the four large bags into the back of the Bronco Chris hurried to the passenger door and opened it for me. After stepping in, he closed it behind me. Something was up. He was never this nice and mannerly. Maybe he had broken something important of mine and this was his way of making up for it. That made sense. He had bought me nearly $500 worth of merchandise in a little over an hour and was constantly kissing up by doing gentlemanly things. Maybe he felt bad about hurting my back earlier. I seriously doubted that was the case though. Maybe he'd tell me what he had done soon so I wouldn't have to keep wondering when the axe was going to drop, so to speak. Chris got in the driver's seat and cranked the engine. The stereo shot back on with a loud growl. Soon we were zooming down the streets of Orlando back toward the house. I assumed we'd be stopping at the Blockbuster and then the food market on the way. Sure enough the not so silent atmosphere made for verbal silence all the way to the Blockbuster. Chris pulled into a back parking spot and as per the usual of the day opened my door for me again.

"What's with this door opening fetish you've developed?" I finally asked as we walked through the parking lot.

"It's not a fetish. A fetish is something that's abnormally stimulating," he quoted Webster to me.

"It's also something evoking irrational devotion or respect and I'd say that about describes the whole door opening thing today,"

Chris opened the door to Blockbuster for me and replied with a cool, "Just being a gentleman,"

"Please don't tell me you're going to insist I pick the movie?" I cackled as we started to pick through the new releases.

"Actually," he laughed with a tone of truthfulness behind it.

"Good lord what's gotten into you today!" I stammered watching him eye me underneath the sunglasses, "Are you on drugs?"

"No, not on drugs," he turned his head back to the racks of videos and the task at hand.

"I'm really starting to worry about you," I muttered before picking up the Bone Collector and setting it back down absently.

I followed Chris down the racks before picking up, Lake Placid. I read the box and then called Chris over.

"What do you think," I handed him the box to read.

I saw him skimming it and he handed it back, "Sounds good,"

I rolled my eyes. Another act of chivalry and I would be forced to strangle him. I picked up the video and handed it to Chris who as he had four other times that day took it to the counter to pay for.

"Are you sure you're not on drugs. You are way too docile. Maybe that wig has some fumes or something on it?" I sniffed at his wig, but found nothing intoxicating wafting in the locks.

Chris just smiled as he opened up my door for me, yet again. I took the video from his hand and he closed the door behind him. I opened the glove compartment and dropped it inside. Chris got back in and gunned the engine, sending the radio back on into ear shattering noise. I cringed as he took off down the urban street of course being stopped by all the traffic. I looked at the clock. It was lunchtime for most people, not Chris and I though. We were weirdoes who stayed up into the late hours and thus ate breakfast at a strange hour. We didn't have lunch until around 3 and even then our dinners were late into the evening and night. After fighting through traffic for ten long minutes and watching Chris have a conniption each time he was cut off we made it to the grocery store. We got a parking space near the front of the store. It was one of those bag it yourself type of places. I enjoyed those. Bagging my own groceries was always good for a laugh. I enjoyed the challenge of breaking my own best "times".

"Wonder what the good folks will think of my shirt," I wondered becoming aware of myself just as I had been of Chris' geeky disguise.

"They'll be cool if they want to keep from having a Mr. Kirk Hammet make a scene," Chris teased.

"You'd really enjoy playing Kirk for a day wouldn't you?"

"I have been so far!"

* * *

There were moments were I could seriously have benefited from grabbing Chris and kissing him. This was one of those times. There was just something about him that one moment he could be looking like rotted road kill and the next have that gleam in his eye and sparkle fly off his teeth like Prince Charming. The urge to grab him and basically force myself upon him usually came during a domestic stupid light joking moment. It just would have been the perfect end to a wonderful situation if I could have gotten away with it. How I wished that he would some day be struck by lightening or some other gawd based force and become madly obsessed with me. I knew it wasn't likely to happen. The only goodness I ever got from Chris other than our usual rapport was the whole gentleman thing I had been getting today. That had to be linked to some grievance I didn't yet know about. There was no way that Chris was suddenly feeling the need to treat me like a Princess. After all he had even said I wasn't princess material. Apparently I was only fit to be a Devil Princess. 

Chris got the shopping cart wrangled from the line where they had been shoved together and I accompanied him from the side down the market's isles. He inquired on items as he saw them and based on my replies he tossed products in the cart. I was reminded of the game show that I had been watching earlier as we went along. Maybe some day if the show was still in operation Chris and I could compete on celebrity day or something. I was starting to think we might have skills on our hands. 

It took Chris an hour to shop. I couldn't believe he took so long to go through every isle. We left with a bill of $100 and I did most of the bagging. That was by choice though. I got sick of Chris mixing the wrong items in the wrong bag consistency and literally had to slap his hands away and set him a few feet from me to keep him out of trouble. After lifting the last perfectly sacked bag of groceries into the cart I allowed him to tow it to the Bronco. In an effort to show off, Chris lifted the groceries two bags at a time, one handed. I, of course, clapped and cheered him on. He then heaved the cart sending it rolling extremely quickly into the cart receptacle. That was an amazing feat, in of itself. Chris opened my door and I got inside waiting for it to be shut. He got in next to me and dropped the wig, hat and sunglasses on my lap. 

"Oh man, that feels so much better!" he ran his fingers through his long wavy blonde hair, uttering a relieved sigh.

Another urge to kiss him came and passed. He started up the engine and peeled out of the parking space. We sped back to the house with Chris singing along to the radio for the first time that day. I was back to feeling good about the whole day of big spending. All I wanted to do was get home, put away the groceries and clothes and sit down for that much needed movie. We arrived in quick time and Chris hurried out of his seat as I removed the movie from the glove compartment. My door swung open and I hopped out, wondering how many more doors would I ever see opened by Chris. I was beginning to enjoy it rather than consider it an annoyance. I took the bags from the mall and Chris got the groceries. Somehow even though he was carrying more he made it to the front door in record time and yes, once again, opened it for me. I stepped in and dropped the bags and punched in the alarm code on the pad next to the wall. I then joined Chris in the kitchen and began helping him put away our groceries. I had actually picked up a few things we needed so I helped keep that from the stuff we would have out later that night which I instructed him to leave on the bar. After that was all said and done we stored the sacks away for the later use of cat box cleaning. Some people had dogs, some people had cats; Chris and I had dogs and cats. His dog, Ozzy, was an outside mutt who spent most of his time in the dog pen or the air conditioned dog house Chris had built for him. Meanwhile the two house cats had staked claim to different sides of the house. Chris had this psychotic fourteenth generation Asian leopard Cat, appropriately named, Spazz. I had a short-haired Dilute British Calico named, Fajita. Fajita could be described as obese while Spazz, in comparison, would be called anorexic. Needless to say Spazz was a hard biter and I thanked my lucky stars every time he did get a hold of my arm, leg, finger, neck, or whatever that he had been de-clawed. It was a shame they couldn't some how remove his teeth as well. 

So, in conclusion, it didn't at all surprise me that when we arrived back at the site of the mall bags and video that Spazz and Fajita had taken time out of sleeping or in Fajita's case, eating, to check out the new buys. Chris and I sat down on the floor next to our respective pets and unloaded the bags for them to sniff and nuzzle. Watching Chris watch Spazz playfully attack the crinkled bag, brought on that feeling of a need to kiss him once again. I would be glad when Chris left for travels again. At least then I wouldn't have all these damn moments clouding my judgment.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" Chris asked jolting me out of my dazed stupor.

"Like what," I denied all knowledge of any such looking taking place.

"Nothing, nevermind. You ready to watch that video?" he changed the subject equally as well.

"Yeah just let me hide this stuff from these two. If I leave it Fajita's liable to eat it and Spazz will just tear it all up,"

"Good point," 

I scooped up most of my things and began stuffing them in bags randomly. Chris did the same. I was about to head off in the complete opposite direction when Chris stopped me.

"Here me thinks these are yours," He handed me a pair of the undies he had hand selected earlier.

"Gee, I thought you might want to wear them though," 

Chris rolled his eyes at me this time and walked away after dropping the panties on my head.

"THANKS CHRISSY!" I called working my way back to my room.

I dumped the clothes on the bed and reapplied my lip-gloss, which had consequentially through the day worn off. I took some additional time to put my hair up out of my face and then walked back into the front room with the TV. Chris was already sprawled out on the leather couch, remote in hand, frosty beverage in the other, waiting for me. 

"Wow, you didn't start with out me. I'm impressed,"

"Why would I?" he wondered out loud sitting up.

"Nah, don't bother I'll just take the lazy boy," I started over to the leather chair.

"No, it's fine. Come sit over here," he patted a spot next to him on the couch.

"You can have the couch all to yourself. You earned it,"

"Fine, have it your way," Chris sprawled himself back out.

"I made you your favorite thing in the world," he nodded to a margarita awaiting me.

"Damn, that was fast,"

"I used the mix," he snickered.

I looked over the shelves in the room and peered into the kitchen. Sure enough he had left the ice, the booze and the Jose Quervo Mix out on the counter.

"You forgot to put away the ice, dimwit," I stood up to go replace the tray.

"While you're up could you make some pop corn?" he called.

I realized why the ice had been left out. It was all a clever ruse to get me to make him popcorn.

"I should have known!" I scolded myself as I replaced the ice and opened the pantry for a bag of popcorn. 

Luckily, we had the already popped huge bag of buttered popcorn just waiting to be used. I brought it out to Chris and set it beside him.

"Aren't you going to have some?" he asked punching the movie on with the remote.

"Nope, I'm going to relax with Senorita Margarita and not even think about eating until later,"  
"Suit yourself," 

Chris tore open the bag and began munching. The usual barrage of boring previews floated by and sipping my margarita definitely helped take off the edge. As soon as the movie started I was getting kind of frightened. Normally I was okay for these kinds of movies, but this one really creeped me out. Maybe it was the fact that I had seen many a gator slip into the pool out back. Ozzy was seriously lucky he had never been attacked by any of our scaled visiting reptiles. Five minutes into the movie the first casualty occurred and I had switched my stance on sitting in the lazy boy.

"Chris," I called from where I was curled into a tight ball covering my eyes.

"Yeah, Ang?"

"Can I come over to the couch with you?"

Chris just laughed and I heard him pat the spot next to him. I jumped from the lazy boy and crashed next to him sipping my margarita delicately as he inhaled the popcorn. 

The movie was both scary and funny. Something we had wanted and it contained no sentimental tear jerking whatsoever. I knew how to pick movies well it seemed. By the end however I was wide eyed and on the edge of the couch. Chris was as well, although he hid it nicely. During the climax ending of the movie I couldn't handle the suspenseful gore and ducked away into Chris' awaiting arms. He was speechless at the movie and when the big finish had gone by he looked down and proceeded to laugh at me.

"Angelina, you are such a wussy!" he was cracking up and I couldn't do anything about it because he was holding me still.

I looked up at him with a genuine hurt in my eyes that he was taking so much fun snickering at me. He looked down sympathetically and stopped laughing as he let go of me.

"I sorry," he apologized giving me a famous Chris smile.

Another one of those moments where it would have been perfect to kiss him came and passed by. I really wish he would quit doing things that had me feeling like that. It was a waste of perfectly good lust as far as I was concerned. It's not like I could ever act on these momentary longings to be with him. I couldn't believe I was carried away enough to even ponder all this nonsense.

"Yeah, yeah," I finally acknowledged his apology, "What time is everyone supposed to be here?"

"In about two hours," he glanced up at the clock on the TV, "I told them five and it's three now,"

"We'll I guess I ought to make sure everything here is in order. I have to put away my clothes and put all those drinks in the refridgerator,"

"Okay, let's make a deal of this. Since you work so hard. I'll take care of all of that party stuff being as it was my idea. You can just worry about your clothes and maybe fit in a quick nap," Chris suggested.

"You're taking this gentleman crap a little too far don't you think,"

The fond smirk drifted from Chris' face as I once again berated his manners. I shrunk back a little.

"That's not to say it isn't appreciated. Thanks Chrissy boy," I gave him a pat on the head and stood up from the couch to stretch. 

Chris was staring at me. I'm not sure what he wanted exactly, but I guess he wanted me to get out of his way so he could go about his business. It would take him a helluva lot longer than it would me. That's just because I had the constant practice. Still I wasn't knocking my caretaker role. It was good not to have a real job.

"Hey, Angelina!" Chris called after me as I sauntered down the hallway.

"Yeah!"

"You want a refill on your margarita?"

"Sure!" I called back realizing that through the whole movie I had only downed one of those heavenly concoctions.

"I'll bring it to you in a while!"

"Okay!"

I opened the room door and let Fajita in with me.

"Have you come to help mommy organize? Have you? Have you?" I gave her some sugary pet talk and she just eyed me suspiciously. 

"That's what I thought," I moved her out of my path with my foot gently. "Free loader," I muttered.

I opened my walk in closet and opened a new package of black plastic hangers. I began to tear off tags with my teeth from my purchases and hang things up setting aside the hung clothes so I wouldn't have to make several trips to the closet. Most of my closet was filled not with clothes I had paid for myself, but clothes Chris had either bought me from around the country or things we had shopped for. I continued on my hanging spree until I was down to just the Victoria's Secret items, the swimsuit and pantyhose. I lugged the hung closet bound items to the closet and put them in the categories I had set up. The left was for pants, the right for blouses and shirts and the middle for dresses and skirts. Next I took the underwear and sorted it in the drawers in the closet. There was one drawer for panties, one for bras and one for stockings and socks. I was such a neat freak. That balanced out Chris perfectly as he was a shoe in for Slob of the Year. I smiled at my accomplishment and then opened the treasure chest of a jewelry container and spilled all my accessories into that. I was left with a swimsuit lying on the bed. I suddenly remember I hadn't tried it on yet. I had just grabbed it off the rack and had Chris buy it. 

"No time like the present right Fajita?" 

The cat just looked at me like I had issues for talking to her let alone asking questions.

"Free loader," I scoffed for good measure.

I slid out of my jeans and sandals and pulled the tank over my head. I removed my last bits of dignified clothing and tied the suit bottoms on. I tied up the neck of the top and then dropped it over my head, finally securing the back tie just as a light knock hit my door. I, without much thought as to what I was wearing and just how good I looked in it, opened the door. Chris' stood there in shock for a second as I took my fresh margarita from him. He then looked away and after a few seconds of self-affirmations or something turned to look back. I finally looked down at myself and put the whole picture together. I hid behind the door and peaked out the edge at Chris who was still standing eye's bugged out and chin to the floor.

"Sorry about that. I should come with a warning, huh?" 

Chris nodded still too shocked to respond with speech. I was about mortified that I had sent him into such a state. So I tried to at least make sure he could speak before I shut the door on him and changed back to my other clothes.

"Chris? CHRIS!" I shouted causing him to finally look into my eyes rather than trying to look elsewhere, "Are you going to be okay?"

"Uh, uhm," he studdered through the first few words, "Yeah, uhm, I, I'll go now," he staggered away from the door.

I groaned shutting the door and leaning against it. I saw myself in the mirror from across the room. No wonder Chris was going insane. He was used to tankinis and board shorts. Then I come out wearing this dazzling bikini and end up looking pretty hot in it. I had to change. I think I was turning myself on. I had to laugh at that. Then I saw Fajita glaring at me. Was that jealousy?

"Are you jealous of mommy's sexy bum!" I pet talked her as I changed back into my clothes, "Well, don't worry this suit will never rear it's ugly figure complimenting face again. You know why? Because Unckie Chris can't take too much excitement," I shook my head at her as she stared back blankly, "No, he can't. You know why? Because Unckie Chris has a chemical imbalance of some sort that causes him to compulsively open doors," I nodded at her, "Yes he does! Yes he does!"

I couldn't believe I was making myself feel less guilty from babbling nonsensical pet talk to my cat. After tucking the suit safely away in the sock drawer with the other suits I owned I flopped down on the bed and switched on the satellite. I quickly switched off suddenly upset and embarrassed from getting Chris so worked up. I promptly guzzled down my margarita and headed off for a nap. I couldn't believe I had just opened the door like that. I was such an idiot. Just as I dozed off I remembered I had just that morning taken a peek at his gorgeous butt. Maybe it wasn't such a bad thing after all.

* * *

"Angelina!" I woke up to a new voice in my ear.

"Huh," I groaned rolling over and opening one eye.

The face of Jeff Hardy was fresh and in my view. 

"Jeffie!" I greeted sleepily rolling over away from him so I could let out a loud long yawn.

"Hey, Chris sent me to wake you up,"

"Really, what time is it?" I asked throwing off the covers after double-checking to make sure I HAD taken that suit off.

"It's 6 PM,"

I shot up like Kane rising from the mat after a fall. 

"Are you serious!"

"As a heart attack," came the southern drawled reply.

"Why'd you guys let me sleep so late?"  
"Chris said you needed the rest after this massive shopping spree you two had,"

"Yeah right," I muttered stepping out of the bed knocking over the empty margarita glass as I did. 

Jeff picked it up and set it back on my nightstand. Great, the gentleman pose had rubbed off on him as well.

"Is everyone swimming or what?" I asked Jeff who was standing in his board shorts and damp white tee shirt.

"Pretty much,"

"How many are here?" I asked.

"Near thirty and I think that's going to be it," he replied.

"Oh, okay," I was not as spaced out only calculating 30 messes plus Chris and I, "Well, tell Chris I'm on my way and get out of here so I can change,"

"Okay," Jeff started to walk to the door to exit, "Oh yeah, Chris told me to tell you to wear the new swim suit," 

Jeff obviously had no clue what the message was referring to.

"Did he look like he was joking?" I asked before I could control myself.

"Nope, he was serious," Jeff walked out of the room shutting the door behind him.

"What is Chris up to!" I asked myself confounded, "Oh well,"

I started tossing my clothes off again and then went into the closet to dig through the sock drawer and retrieve my new bikini. I tied it back onto my body and then found a conveniently long battered shirt to wear over it. I stumbled out of the room and shut the door behind me to lock Fajita in. I couldn't risk her getting loose. I'd never see her again if she ever got out the front or back door. I looked out onto the patio and deck and saw a multitude of wrestlers and I supposed dates they had brought and so on. Jeff was standing with his brother talking to a blonde and brunette. Then another brunette joined them. They all seemed to be getting along famously. I stopped in the kitchen on my way to the back door, which wasn't really on the way, and stuffed my margarita glass in the dishwasher. Two was my limit for that night. The margarita had already gotten me into enough trouble as it was. I opened the back door and stepped out onto the deck, closing it behind me. I was a little self conscious of the bikini underneath the shirt even though I was totally covered from any wandering eyes. 

"Hey Angelina!" it was the voice of Jeff's brother Matt, "Come here I want to introduce you!"

I obediently walked over to them still wiping sleep out of my eyes.

"Course you know Mercy," he motioned to the brunette who had lastly appeared and was now on his arm.

I almost laughed. How could I not know the famous Mercy. She was Matt's fiance' and utterly his reason for breathing and all that good stuff.

"This is Lisa," Jeff now introduced me to the singular blonde, "And this is Kay," he with his other arm introduced me to the other brunette.

"Jeff's a total mack," Matt whispered to me just out of earshot of Lisa and Kay.

"Do you guys travel as well?" I asked the two girls.

"You know Kane?" Matt answered me, "Kay's his daughter and Lisa is Jeff's valet,"

"Really. interesting," I looked at Lisa who was not very concealed in holding onto Jeff's hand.

"Matt can I see you for a second," I pulled him away from Mercy briefly.

"What happened to Mel?" I asked after seeing Lisa and Jeff all close the thought of where his girlfriend was intrigued me.

"They, they broke up," Matt answered, "Like a couple of months ago,"

"Am I always the last to know, geez," I could always count on Chris not to share the gossip.

"What else did I miss? You and Mercy didn't get married yet, right?"

Matt laughed, "Hah, no, that's coming up though. Well, let's see. Jay got married,"

"Jay got married?" I asked in disbelief.

"Well, nobody really knew about that. We had to keep it a secret so Kay's dad, that's who he married, wouldn't kill him on the spot,"

"Ohh, what else?"

"Jay almost died, got a kidney transplant from his mom. He's fine now,"

"No way!"

"Do you and Chris ever talk?" Matt finally asked.

"I guess not,"

I was almost fumed at Chris for not sharing all this with me. I hung out with these people whenever they blew into town; Chris could at least keep me up to date.

"Well, I gotta get back to Mercy. She's looking lonely," Matt winked at his partner in engagement, "I'll see you later on though. Have you seen Chris yet?"

"He's not wearing the Kirk Hammet costume again is he?" I muttered out loud.

"The what?" Matt wondered confused.

"Nevermind, I'll see you Matt,"

I walked away giving casual waves to Lisa, Jeff, Mercy and Kay. I had a bone to pick with Chris for not giving me the vital information. I couldn't believe he had forgotten all of that conveniently enough. What was his problem? I caught him chatting it up with Brian Armstrong, Joanie Laurer and JP Levesque. I sort of slid into the group and held myself silent. Chris looked at me and a smile crossed his lips.

"Hey Angelina," he greeted, "How's it feel to be awake,"

"It's different waking up to a swinging party," I smiled back realizing how bad I couldn't wait to get my hands around his pretty throat.

"Chris, you didn't leave her out like that and then wake her up did you," Joanie sympathized with me.   
I wasn't about to get sarcastic with her. She could tear me to pieces and I not only realized but appreciated that fact.

"No," Chris fiddled out of responsibility for the actions, "She needed some extra rest. We had a big day today,"

"Oh, doing what?" Joanie continued to pry.

"Chris took me shopping," I gloated if only to myself.

"Why don't you ever take me shopping, JP," Joanie turned the tables on poor helpless JP.

"Yeah JP, why don't you take your lady shoppin," Brian started in on him as well.

JP fumbled and studdered for a second trying to think of an excuse. I couldn't help, but laugh with everyone at his attempt to find any excuse to get out of the now, inevitable.

"Chris, I need to have word with you," I seethed through gritted teeth once again in touch with my anger.

"Okay," I walked off to a sort of secluded area in the back yard.

Chris met me. I could tell his mood had gone to nervousness. 

"Why didn't you bother telling me about Jay and Kaylin getting married, or the fact Jay was near death?" I just spat the question out before him.

I couldn't tell whether he was relieved or thrown off by the question.

"I don't know. I guess it just never came up. I mean, I wasn't aware half the time and the rest. I mean Jay and Kay I had to keep a secret and as for Jay's health I'm not sure. I think I was traveling at the time it all happened and by the time I got back it was already over,"  
He had lame excuses. I didn't want to hear any more of them either.

"You suck. I felt like such a fool talking to Matt and Jeff when they had to tell me about all of this!"

"I'm sorry," Chris apologized, "I swear I'm not trying to keep you out of the loop. It honestly just slipped my mind and didn't come back up,"

"Kay's like your little sister. When her husband or whatever is about dead, you'd think it would be on your mind,"I persisted.

"Ange, there's a lot been going on around work that is hard to deal with. I mean, that David thing was bad enough. That was horrible for Mercy and the rest of us. I don't know. I guess when I get home it's like I'm in another world where all that isn't going on. I don't have to deal with all the crisis and drama. I'm just here,"

I could understand where he was coming from, but it still hurt to be out of the loop.

"I really am sorry. I promise I won't keep anything no matter how small or insignificant from you," 

"Now you're just mocking me," I turned to walk away from him, but he caught me by the arm suddenly.

"I'm not mocking you," his face softened, "Seriously, I won't ever keep anything from you,"

Something in his soft gaze made me trust his words. I drew back to him no longer needing his arm to hold me in place.

"So, is there anything else I should maybe know,"

"Jeff and Mel broke up," he offered.

"Already heard about that,"

He paused a moment about to say something, but stopped uncertain as he looked up and around me. I didn't turn. Whatever it was in the distance had caught Chris' eye.

"I'll be right back okay," he suddenly swiftly departed from me.

"Don't worry about me," I muttered, "I'm just the help,"

* * *

I watched Chris dart into the crowd and disappear. I guessed that was how my life would always be, just the middle man, just the help. It couldn't be helped. I had nothing to offer Chris that would keep his attention for more than five minutes obviously. I had to get over that. Soon all these people would go home and move on and Chris and I would still be here . Then he would only have me to talk to. That's what I counted on anyway. I decided to find some water and then maybe join whoever was in the pool. I could go for a dip after my rough day. Plucking a bottle of water out of the freezer inside I ducked back out doors. From my spot on the porch I could see a lot going on. Scott Taylor and Brian Christoper were in the pool. Brian Armstrong and Sean Waltman were doing something mean and underhanded to JP along with Terri and Joanie. Jeff had a wrestling match going on with Ozzy. I saw Adam, Kay and Jay with Matt and Mercy doing what looked like placing bets on Jeff or Ozzy. Then I spotted Chris in the midst of all the madness talking to a brunette. Now I could understand Chris' rush. He couldn't let the girls get too far or else he'd lose his shot. Chris seemed to have lousy luck with his badly picked prospects. I hoped this brunette would serve as my basis for humor for many weeks to come. I chugged down some water and looking down at myself realized I had my new suit on and still had the shirt covering it modestly. Maybe I would go over to Chris without the shirt on and see if I could liven things up. He'd really enjoy that. Especially if I ended up blowing his hot date. I finally, out of the goodness of my heart, decided it would be best to keep on my clothes, for the time being anyway. I took a seat on one of the lawn chairs and stretched myself out. The music was good, the food was good, the people were good and the weather outside was great. Life couldn't get much better. 

Right after I had all those thoughts of course they were jinxed. As I closed my eyes deepening into my relaxation a voice interrupted my surreal moment. The brunette that had been talking to Chris turned out to be Melanie, Jeff's ex girlfriend. She was now towering over me and she looked way beyond mad.

"Angelina! You're Angelina right!"

"Last time I checked out of the mental ward that's what they told me," I gave her a sarcastic remark and took a swig of my water.

"Don't get smart with me, bitch," she ordered.

"Get smart, no I would never dream of over shadowing your bright intellect and vocabulary,"

I was really on a role with my verbal skills.

"You think you are so damn funny and so damn cute,"

"Think I'm funny and cute? My comedy skills are on layaway and for the record I don't think, I know, I'm cute,"

I just couldn't keep my mouth shut. What was wrong with me? Not only did this girl have a few pounds on me and years of skill, but the pounds afformentioned that were over me, were muscle. 

"Look, I don't care about who you are or who you think you are. I'm not letting another trick step in on what's mine. So this is your warning. Stay away from Chris!"

She turned to storm off. I, being my usual tactful self let my mouth run off again.

"That's kind of hard to do seeing as I LIVE HERE!" I roared after her getting up off the chair. 

Mel stopped in her tracks and turned to face me as I stepped down the deck toward her.

"You know, what I mean," she growled.  
"No, I don't think I do. Infact I don't think you know what you mean. I live here, but I'm the freaking caretaker. If you knew Chris at all you'd no I'm nothing more than that! So telling me to stay away is a little difficult considering this is my job and I don't plan on an early retirement just to make some two cent whore happy!"

Mel's face twisted upon hearing my tyrade. I strutted past her leaving her the option of backing down or the one other more often chosen option. She chose the latter and grabbed my hair, pulling me back to her.

"What the hell is your damage!" I accused grabbing onto my hair as well trying to get leverage.

"I don't have any damage. You on the other hand are about to!"

She flung me forward and I nearly slipped into the pool. I caught myself just in time and heaved my bottle of water at her. That got a few eyes of attention glued to the altercation.

"Look, Mel, I don't know you and I don't care to. I think it might be best if you leave!"

Who did this person think she was ordering me around in my own home. It wasn't my house, but it was my home. I couldn't believe her ego to start a fight in front of all these people. Even more I couldn't believe the apparent attatchment she had to Chris. Yet again another fine example of his choice in women. Now he had graduated to terminal psychos. I wasn't sure if I should have a talk with about this or just move far far away. Needless to say I felt this uncanny urge to fend for not only myself, but my relationship or lack thereof with Chris.

"I thought that's the advice I gave you," she hissed.  
"Yeah, well, I'm giving it back. Consider it wise advice passed down through the generations,"

Mel lunged at me coming forward a few feet right into my ready fist which then attatched itself to the back of her head bringing her forehead straight into my knee.

By this time Matt and Mercy had come to my rescue and were seperating Mel and I. Matt held me back as Mercy tugged Mel away from me to the other end of the yard.

"What happened?" Matt asked concerned even though I wasn't sure if it were for me.

"Just a little case of territorial pissing. I'm fine. Go check on your friend,"

"She's not my friend," Matt insisted leaving me to go help his fiance with her friend.

By this time I had most of the party goers either staring or clapping. I didn't want to put up with either so I did the only thing left. I walked back inside and took a seat in the TV room. Maybe after half an hour of the Comedy Channel and everyone getting back to their business I could go outside again. Maybe instead of even that I would take my earlier advice, skip the talk with Chris about attracting psychopaths and just get the hell away from here. Maybe if this was the company Chris kept I should be learning something. Did I want to put up with this kind of thing no matter who came over. There would always be some crazy girl running about. Did I really want to deal with her taunts every chance she got. I felt the back of my head. It was irritated no doubt. Who did this girl think she was dealing with. I guess she knew now. Even being a wrestler and having the advantage over me I had taken her on and for all my record keeping purposes, I had won. I was about to get up and go take up hiding in my room when Chris burst through the back door.

"What happened?" he asked with a mixture of worry and annoyance on his face.  
"Just a tizzy. I swear I didn't mean to hurt her. I'm just going to stay in my room. Don't worry about it," I started to leave the room, but I heard Chris quickly come to me.  
"No, what are you talking about. Are you okay? Mel didn't hurt you did she?"

Chris was genuinely upset and worried for me. I was shocked and impressed.

"I, I'm fine," I managed to stammer out in reply, "I think I knocked her down,"  
"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for any of that to get out of control and happen to you," Chris came closer to me, "Oh gawd Angelina I'm sorry,"

Chris hugged me first softly and then tightly. I had no idea what to think at this point.

"Aren't you, uhm, well, I thought you and Mel were hooked up or about to hook up," I questioned as Chris finally let go of me.

"Mel? No! No way! I can't hook up with her. That's crazy,"

"Oh, well she didn't seem to think so,"

"I can tell. She really didn't hurt you?" he asked one final time.

"Really Chris I'm okay,"

"I can't believe she did that. I told her to stay away from you," he was scolding himself.

"Why was she going crazy and why'd you tell her to stay away from me,"

"She thinks that you are trying to take away her chance with me,"

"Am I?" I asked impulsively thinking only after I had asked. 

Chris looked up at me startled. We stood staring at eachother in silence for what seemed like minutes but turned out only to be seconds. Chris slightly opened his mouth to speak and pushing past the first breathless noises he looked at me with all seriousness in his features, "Yes, actually, you are,"

I was taken aback. What was Chris saying? Did he want her? Was I in his way with women? What the hell did that mean?

Chris stepped toward me about to continue, but the door flung open startling us both.

"You!" Mel was in the room pointing at me, "All I ever freaking hear about is you!"

The color drained from my face. 

"Every damn time I get close to him. He starts talking about Angelina this. Angelina that! What the hell is so damn special about you! From what I hear you are a bum!"

Mel began to laugh incredulously, " Angelina is so great. She takes care of my house. She takes care of me. Angelina's the funniest person on earth! Angelina could beat all of you guys down at poker! I miss Angelina. Wonder what Angelina's doing!"

Mel was ranting from the doorway looking either ready to turn into Carrie or break down in tears. She chose the latter. 

"Why the hell can't that be me! I have nobody. Everytime I find someone they're taken or looking for someone else! Dammit! Now look what I've done!"

She continued sobbing all the way back out of the house into the back yard. I was pumped with adrenaline and still quite shaky from everything she had said slowly processing in my brain. I looked at Chris who had stopped dead in his tracks since the moment Mel walked in. He was staring at the floor, his lips tightened into a mourning lost frown. His entire face and neck had gone red with embarrassment. I could have held him just then. I stood still as well. First he tells me some of his cryptic stuff about taking away her chance with him and now she runs in screaming all sorts of his deep dark travel verbalizations. Finally I exhaled the longly withheld breath. I looked up at Chris who was only now starting to dare even consider looking me in the eye.

"Is it true?" I asked him taking the weight off his shoulders to speak first.

"I was going to tell you myself. That's what I was going to work up to outside. Then I saw Mel and stupid me tried to play damage control with her. Kinda backfired huh,"

Chris still glared at the floor unsure of how to work up the strength to look at me and assess my feelings on the issue. He took a deep breath and all at one looked up at me. He was either on the verge of tears or massive heart attack, probably a little bit of both. I noticed my hands at my sides trembling. I wondered if in a few seconds I would wake up to find it all a dream. Things were the way they had been. Nothing had changed. I was the same Angelina looking after Chris' house while he was away and doing a mountain of laundry the day he returned.

"I was going to come tell you how I felt. I meant what I said about not keeping anything from you. I really would have toldyou myself,"  
"Tell me what?" I was still confused as to what all the things said meant that he felt and meant that he wanted to say.

"Angelina, I love you,"

He stared deep into my eyes. My whole body froze and for the first time in the longest minutes of my existence my hands stopped trembling.

"I don't know exactly when, but in the last five years I've fallen so in love with you. The last year I've woken up every morning with you on my mind and your name on my lips. It's crazy I know. I just can't help it. I tried denying it. I tried staying away as long as I could. Nothing helps. I don't want it to help. Nothing can help or change me,"

The freeze of shock thawed out within seconds and the trembling came back. I couldn't believe Chris had said all that. He was looking into my eyes with his beautiful blue stare. All I could do to keep from falling over was take hold of the couch awkwardly. 

"Chris, all day, all week, all year," I fumbled for words to express the feeling tugging at me and rising fast, "I've been holding something back from you. I'm relieved everytime your gone, because I don't have to hold myself back from grabbing you and kissing you and telling you how much you mean to me. All day I wanted nothing more then to do what I did, to be with you,"

Chris finally let out a relieved breath and smiled, crossing the distance between us. I held onto him and he held onto me.   
"You drive me nuts," He announced into my ear softly as he held me in his arms.  
"Yeah, well, I never said I brought out the best in you," I laughed lightly.

"Yes, you do. Oh gawd, yes you do," 

Chris bent in and laid his lips on mine. I finally took my chance and taking his face in my not so trembling palms brought him to me and kissed him the way I had wanted to all day, all week and all year. 


End file.
